


Do Better This Time

by ThePeak



Series: Get With the Times [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blue Discharge, Brief depiction of lynching (minor character), Bucky has a bone to pick with Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Secrets, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:21:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeak/pseuds/ThePeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We talked about this, Steve. We were gonna lay low, fly under the radar. Not give anyone a reason to be pokin' their noses into our personal lives. And what to you do? You go and get yourself famous!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Better This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the prequel to _**All the Time in the World**_ that none of you asked for. 
> 
> The sequel that you did ask for _did_ ask for is on its way.

**1943 – 107 th Camp**

 

"What were you _thinking_ ," Bucky hisses, trying desperately to keep his voice down despite his rage. The canvas of the tent does little to muffle their voices, but it's late enough that most everyone should be settled into their own.

Bucky doesn't give Steve time to answer.

"I've been hearing about this ‘Captain America’ for months now, guys readin' the comics and their gals sendin' em trading cards with the post and wiring about the shows they saw. One of 'em says the guy's real name is Steve Rogers, and I think ‘well _damn_ , this other Steve musta stole all the height 'n muscle _my_ Steve Rogers was supposta get.’ I had a real good laugh about it, too, a guy that big havin' the same name as you…"

Bucky is smiling a nasty sort of smile that makes it clear he's not actually happy. "I ain't laughing anymore, Steve."

Bucky hasn't been upset with him in a long time, and Steve isn't sure that he's ever been _this_ upset with him. It makes him feel small in a way he hasn't felt since before the serum. It probably helps that Bucky's on his feet, pacing around the small confines on the tent, while Steve is seated on the edge of a cot. Bucky might have been able to pass off his shaking as fatigue to the others during their trek back to the military camp, but Steve knew he was barely containing his fury. He can tell how cross Bucky is with him by how much he uses Steve’s name when he speaks and how heavy the Brooklyn in him is on is tongue. Now, in the relative privacy of the tent, he's letting Steve have it.

"We _talked_ about this, Steve," Bucky says, and it comes out more frustrated and softer than Steve imagined Bucky wanted it to. "We were gonna lay low, fly under the radar. Not give anyone a reason to be pokin' their noses into our personal lives. And what to you do? You go and get yourself famous!"

Steve still can't bring himself to respond, but Bucky doesn't seem to mind. Steve knows Bucky's been bottling it up for days, and isn't surprised that he can't stop now that he's going.

"There are Captain America _films_. You were in _movies_ , Steve. How the _hell_ is that laying low? You gonna be the next Clark Gable, Steve? Because if someone found out Clark Gable was a fucking fairy, doesn't matter how famous he is; he'd get lynched the next fucking day, but not before they drag his name through the fucking mud in every paper across America."

Bucky is close but Steve can't look him in the eye. Bucky reaches out and grips both of Steve's now enormous shoulders. He squeezes them, not in anger, but desperation.

"They wouldn't just kill you, Steve; they would _destroy_ you. And that would destroy _me_ ,” Bucky whispers fiercely.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and tried to will away the wetness pooling in his eyes. One of them being found out for what they were was Bucky's greatest fear. There were lots of guys, even some gals, just like them in their neighborhood in Brooklyn, but that didn't make it any less dangerous. Steve and Bucky had witnessed a lynch mob once, not far from their shared apartment. It had been about four years ago, not long after they'd started acting on the impulses both wished they didn't have.

It had been late one night, or early depending on how you looked at it, and Steve and Bucky had been making their way home from a bar. It was one of Bucky's favorites, the walls decked in Dodgers memorabilia and not too far from their apartment. There were a couple of other regulars they'd always find there that Steve and Bucky knew from high school and even a few Bucky worked with now. They'd rant about the Dodgers and the Yankees, one drink following another. Between the alcohol and the comfort of a familiar place, it was hard for either of them to keep their hands to themselves or keep their language neutral. But they'd kept themselves under control, and out of trouble.

A couple of other fellas did not.

On the way home, they didn't notice the commotion until they were too close to change course. They were passing alley and heard a ruckus, and looking in the saw a group of men. They were gathered around a guy huddled on the ground and kicking the ever living shit out of him. Steve and Bucky slowed to a stop, and Bucky took his arm off Steve’s shoulders. It was his favorite trick for getting to touch Steve in public, acting like a pal too drunk to walk himself home.

“ _Please!_ ” Steve heard someone beg wetly. “You’re gonna _kill_ him!” Steve realized he recognized the guy begging, who was pinned to the wall by one of the other men. He’d seen him around some of the queer bars he and Bucky had daringly ventured into a couple of times. Steve remembered him because he danced like a fiend, and Bucky had been hilariously jealous of his skill. His face was bloodied and despite how much he struggled, it was obvious he was too injured to break free of the hold.

“Hey!” Steve yelled. He should have known better, but was too drunk to reign himself in. Beside him, Bucky tensed as he slurred on “what the hell’re you doin’?”

“One too many fairies ‘round here,” one slurred back, and it was obvious they were drunk as hell, too. He kicked the man on the ground as he went on “caught this one tryin’ to suck the other one’s cock like a fuckin’ dame. They’re takin’ over the neighborhood, and we ain’t gonna have this shit goin’ on 'round here anymore.”

The man on the ground, who all this time had been curling in on himself, suddenly went limp. The beating stoped almost immediately, and one of the men reached down to roll him over. Steve’s stomach dropped and he heard Bucky suck in a sharp breath. The victim’s head lolled sickeningly, and there was no mistaking that he was dead.

“Tom?” the man pissed to the wall said just loud enough for Steve and Bucky to hear at the mouth of the alley. “Tommy?”

The man holding him let go, and the group of assailants shuffled awkwardly. They knew they’d gone too far, but the deed was done. They began to head toward the other end of the alley, the alcohol making them sluggish, leaving the dead man and his beaten lover.

“ _Tom_ ,” the man sobbed, dropping to his knees and threading his fingers into the dead man’s bloodied shirt. “ _Oh God, Tommy!_ ”

It was more than Steve could handle, and he made to go toward the man. He had to _do_ something, _anything_. But before he could so much as take a step, Bucky grabbed his elbow.

“Nothing we can do, Steve,” he’d said thickly. “We gotta get outta here.”

Steve nodded dumbly, feeling numb and on fire at the same time. Maybe Bucky was wrong and they should have stayed, but Steve let himself be guided away. He’d never felt so cowardly in is life. Once Bucky let go of his arm, he shoved his hands in his pockets and didn’t take them out the rest of the way home. Steve missed the comfort of his arm slung over his thin shoulders. The moment they were through the apartment door, though, Bucky had Steve engulfed in a hug so fierce Steve thought he might get snapped in two.

"Fuck, Steve," Bucky's voice broke on his name. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ "

Bucky was shaking so hard Steve thought he was going to faint. He buried his face in Steve's hair while Steve's forehead rested on Bucky's collarbone. Steve was shaking by this point, too, having held it together until Bucky couldn't anymore either. He'd tried to be the strong one here, but fuck if he wasn’t scared as hell, too. His fingers clutched for purchase on the back of Bucky's shirt.

"We can't be them, Steve," Bucky whispers furiously into Steve's hair. "We're not gonna go out like that. We're going to be careful, and we're gonna live, and we're gonna have each other til the end. And that's gonna be a long fucking time from now. Okay?"

"Yeah," Steve nods into Bucky's chest. "Okay. I swear Buck."

And they were careful. Bucky started taking girls out dancing, and he and Steve laugh at home together at the irony of how much the girls love him. Bucky theorizes it’s because he doesn’t have the same motives as all the other guys. He doesn’t treat them like a prize, but an actual _person_ , and they love him for it. “Y’know,” Bucky had told Steve once, “dames actually have a lotta smart things t’say when you actually let ‘em talk and listen.”

But whenever things seem to be getting too serious, Bucky has to break it off. He always blames himself, though, trying leaving the girl feeling as good about herself as he can. He tells Steve again and again how guilty it makes him feel, but nobody bats and eye at Steve and Bucky living together when Bucky’s out with a dame almost every weekend. It’s a lot easier for Steve to be careful because he’s already virtually invisible.

Four years later and an ocean away, and Bucky hasn't forgotten that moment they decided to lay low.

"You promised," Bucky trembles. "You swore we were gonna be careful. You know the things I've wanted to write home to you but couldn’t? You know how hard it is to write you a letter that looks normal? They screen all of 'em, making sure we don’t give our position away or anything, so I can’t write anything like I want to. All these guys writin' home to their gals, cryin' over the letters they get, and I gotta sit there and smile while I read yours because they all know it's a letter from a _pal_ and I can't be gettin' all sappy over _that_. I've been dyin' here tryin' to be so fucking careful, and you're back home signin' movie deals and kissin' babies for photos."

Bucky isn't pulling any punches. He knows how badly Steve wanted to be here, fighting like every other good American man. It hurt even worse now that he had a body capable of fighting and he had _still_ been stuck on American soil.

"I was just...trying to do the right thing," Steve finally says.

"Of course you were," Bucky spits back as he lets go and paces to the other side of the tent again. "But you never think more than two steps ahead. I love you, Steve,” he says, lightening slightly. “ _God almighty_ , I love you. But you are a fucking shortsighted _idiot_."

Steve sighs because he knows it’s true. He’s never thought things through well and it’s caused him more trouble in his life than he cares to admit.

"You said it fixed everything," Bucky says in a whisper, and now he’s the one who can’t look the other in the face. "You're not colorblind anymore, right? And you can breathe, and...and everything's good now?"

"Yeah," Steve tells him.

"Did it...did it fix this, too?" Bucky asks without meeting Steve's eyes, gesturing between himself and Steve. "Is that why you let yourself get famous? You don't...you don’t need me like this anymore?"

It isn't like Steve hadn't considered the possibility that the serum might change this, too. He’d been terrified of the prospect at first, because he was sure that losing Bucky would be a fate worse than death. But laying in his barracks cot after a grueling day of training at Camp Lehigh, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering into the forbidden territory of ‘ _what if?_ ’

What if he _was_ normal? How much easier would his life be, and how less uncertain his future, if he just wasn't _like_ this? What if Bucky was _just_ his best friend, and not the thing that occupied every inch of his weak little heart? He could get married like a normal person, have a family and be free of the constant looming threat of discovery. The lack of stress over that would probably extend his life expectancy, given how much he and Bucky worried about it.

But the moment he’d heard about the fate of the 107th, Steve knew. Everything else had changed, but this one thing had unquestionably stayed the same. He gathered his things and stole a USO helmet because he knew now that he was right; losing Bucky will be worse than dying himself.

“I need you more than anything,” Steve tells Bucky with all the conviction he can muster. Bucky needs to understand what Steve knows, that this is never going away, and he’s never going to leave Bucky behind.

Bucky’s shoulders drop and he lets out an unsteady breath. Steve wonders how much of Bucky’s rage had been fear that the serum had made him irrelevant to Steve. Steve tries for a moment to imagine how he would feel if the tables were turned, and he can’t bear the thought. It’s what finally brings him to his feet and over to Bucky, enveloping him in a hug like they hadn’t had since before Bucky shipped out.

It's strange because Bucky's head is under his now, and his arms can reach around him in a way they never could before. It sends a shudder through both of them — this entirely foreign, yet familiar embrace.

And Steve knows he's forgiven on some level when Bucky sighs into his chest "Alright, this ain't so bad."

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve tells him. “I’ll do better this time. I swear.”

“We’ve both got to, now,” Bucky agrees. “I’m not gettin’ a blue ticket, Steve. I’m not letting us get shipped off to some nut house so they can try to fix it. If your fancy _serum_ didn’t even fix it, shocking our brains til they’re fried sure as shit ain’t gonna work.”

And they _do_ do better. Steve and Bucky trust the newly formed Howling Commandos with their lives, but not with this. Is hard, so goddamn hard, when all either of them wants to do is curl up at night together when they'd had a close call during a mission, or kiss when they've had a victory. But Steve won't let Bucky down any more than he already has, and he uses every ounce of willpower to keep his hands to himself. He can’t change what’s already happened. The movies, the posters, the headlines, and the trading cards won’t disappear. But Steve can be as inconspicuous as possible. He even takes a leaf out of Bucky’s book at lets his respect for the stalwart and capable Agent Carter seem like something more than it is. Everyone buys it.

They have moments, though, where the rest are asleep and they can sneak a quick touch or kiss. When they're holed up in an abandoned, bombed out building and the two of them find a room for themselves. In those moments, Steve can almost forget why they’re even here.

Steve tries to get better at thinking ahead. Tactics become his obsession. The SSR is impressed with his battle plans, even Colonel Phillips, and they think it's another perk of the serum. In reality, it's Steve doing everything he can to prove to Bucky that he's done being shortsighted. He's going to think things through. They're going to get through this. They're not going to get caught. They're tearing down HYDRA with so few hiccups that Steve starts to feel invincible. Even Bucky seems to take a beating better than ever these days, getting back on his feet faster than any of the other Commandos. The two of them are in their prime, fighting the good fight, and they're on top of the world.

And from that lofty peak of confidence, Bucky falls.

Steve follows him the very next day.

**Author's Note:**

> Are there any other tags I should put on this? Still new to publishing on AO3.
> 
> There was a scene in the lynching flashback that showed Steve and Bucky at a dance hall, but after a historical error was pointed out to me I also remembered there's an entire scene in the movie about Steve not knowing how to dance. _Duh!_ That whole bit has been replaced.


End file.
